Pierced
by AKA Bombshell
Summary: A minor accident brings Steve & Clint closer together. SLASH! Rated M for strong adult concepts, language and raunchy manlove- it's a HARD M or more. Movieverse. Oneshot. Please R&R!


_Please note: This is explicit slash. If you're not of age, or are easily offended, go back now._

**Pierced**

"Oh god, Cap, I'm so sorry!" Clint breathed, as he ran over to the other man.  
Steve Rogers was sitting uncomfortably on the ground, an arrow protruding from his left calf. "It's okay," he sighed, trying to hide how much it hurt. "It was an accident, Clint."  
"You just moved so damn quickly!" Clint explained, kneeling next to the injured man. "One second I had a clear shot, then the next-"  
"I know. It's okay" Steve assured him. "Hulk took out your target. I'm pretty sure we're all clear now."  
Tony Stark landed next to them, and powered down the Iron Man suit. The faceplate popped open and he peered down at them. "Why are you trying to kill your own teammates?"  
"It was an accident!" Clint cried.  
"Well that's great. If you two are done reenacting the Fall of Troy, maybe we should get that seen to?"  
"Medivac's on its way." Natasha called, running over. She knelt next to Steve and inspected the wound. "Nice shot, dumbass" she drawled at Clint.  
"I am never going to live this down." Clint muttered.  
"Don't worry, I'll be fine" Steve reassured him weakly.  
The SHIELD medivac helicopter landed at the end of the block.  
Thor came striding over. "That is too far a distance for you to walk with your injury" he said casually to Steve. He bent down.  
"It's fine Thor, they'll bring a gurney, please don't-" he broke off with a huff as Thor picked him up like a rag doll, and carried him in his arms towards the helicopter. "I hate it when you pick me up!" he sighed.  
"You are injured." Thor said matter-of-factly.  
"You two sure make a cute couple" Tony slung at them. Thor's brow furrowed and Steve rolled his eyes.  
Clint jogged alongside Thor. "Careful of his leg!" he demanded.  
Thor glanced down at the injured man's leg. "He'll live"  
Steve had gone pale and clammy by the time they reached the helicopter. Thor handed Steve over to the medics. They helped him onto a gurney, and immediately went to work.  
"I'll catch a lift with these guys. See you back at the helicarrier." Clint instructed. Thor nodded and moved away. Clint tried to stay out of the way of the medics as they attended Steve's injured leg and hooked him up to an IV.  
"Can they give you anything for the pain?" Clint asked.  
Steve frowned. "Nothing really hits hard enough because I metabolise it so quickly. They can give me morphine, but it only really takes the edge off for a few minutes.  
Clint swore and looked away.  
"C'mon, Clint. Stop beating yourself up. It could have been a lot worse. I heal up so quickly, in a week it won't even matter." Steve assured him.  
Clint frowned, not convinced.

Clint prided himself on his strong stomach, very little made him squeamish. His resolve, however was tested when his guilt got the better of him, and he volunteered to sit with Steve while the man had the arrow removed from his leg.  
The doctors back at SHEILD base hit Steve with as much morphine as they deemed safe, but the man was still in obvious pain when they incised his leg, and then repaired the damage.  
Steve lay on his side; eyes scrunched shut, breathing hard through his nose. Clint found himself holding the captain's hand and trying to not let his eyes wander down to the surgery.  
"Not so tough now, am I?" Steve joked through clenched teeth.  
"Don't worry, Cap, I won't tell anyone how much you're sweating." Clint said, trying to give the man an encouraging smile.  
"Good, and I won't tell anyone you're holding my hand."  
"Well, you're squeezing it harder than a woman in labour; I think you're going to leave a permanent indentation- that will be hard to explain away." Clint told him.  
Steve bit his lip and struggled with the discomfort. "You really didn't need to be here."  
"Kinda' my fault. Least I can do" Clint muttered.

Once he was through the surgery and bandaged up tightly, Steve was sent back to his own quarters to rest. Despite the throbbing, lingering pain in his leg, he managed to drift off to sleep with his leg propped up on pillows.  
He awoke from his nap to the sound of tapping on his door. He stirred, still sleepy, to see Clint letting himself into the room. "Did you bring me flowers?" he asked.  
"Ah, no. Sorry. I'll bring you gerberas tomorrow" Clint promised. "How are you feeling?"  
Steve rubbed his face and propped himself up on his elbows. "Considerably better."  
"That's great" Clint nodded.  
There was an awkward silence that stretched for several moments.  
"Clint. You're off the hook. Please don't torture yourself over this. It could have been so much worse- at least it was just one of your regular arrow tips, not an explosive one."  
"Oh, Jesus and God" Clint swore, burying his face in his hands. "Can you imagine? Yes, I'm the douchebag that blew off the super soldier's leg. Fuck!"  
"Fury would have killed you. Or maybe just blown off _your_ leg in retaliation."  
"A leg for a leg? Would've made him as more the eye-for-an-eye type." Clint laughed.  
Steve didn't think it was quite right to laugh at a superior's expense, but he did allow himself a small smile at Clint's irony.  
"You know," Steve began, confiding in Clint "I got shot in the backside by one of my own men once."  
Clint was thunderstruck. "Are you serious?"  
Steve nodded. "Well, I think it was probably one of my own- though no one took credit. We were rushing into a firefight one afternoon, and someone's shot went wild; luckily I had my shield at my side at the time, so instead of hitting my back, the bullet hit the shield at a weird angle and ricocheted downwards... ended up lodged in my glute. It was minor- I dug it out myself with tweezers, but it hurt like hell for days..."  
Clint laughed "I'd never heard about that."  
"Well, it never made the newsreels- not the sort of pro-Captain America propaganda they wanted out there at the time." Steve said with a roll of his eyes.  
"You get a Purple Heart for that?" Clint asked with a smirk.  
"For getting shot in the butt by my own man? No. But I did get one posthumously for dying in a plane crash later that year." Steve said with irony.  
Clint nodded. "I should let you rest" he said, eyes straying guiltily to the other man's bandaged leg.  
"Can you do me one favour? Grab me those socks from my desk? My feet are cold and it'll save me hobbling over to get them."  
"Sure" Clint said, fetching the socks. Without really thinking about what he was doing, he unballed the socks, and sat back down on the bed next to Steve. He reached forward and gently pulled the socks onto the other man's feet. He was adjusting the toes of the second one before he realised what he was doing. He slowly drew his hands away, then turned to look at Steve. They stared at each other for a moment, both their faces unreadable, before suddenly diving for one another. Their mouths crashed together in a passionate kiss. They fumbled and grabbed at each other, a tangle of limbs and desire. After several minutes of leaning in at an awkward angle, Clint hopped up and straddled Steve's lap. Steve flinched slightly, protecting his injured leg.  
"Easy, tiger" he breathed.  
Clint smiled and pushed him back against the bed, kissing him full and hard. Steve moaned into the other man's mouth, his fingers digging into the muscles of Clint's lean back. Clint's hands were up Steve's shirt, caressing the man's washboard stomach and pectorals.  
Steve broke off with a gasp. "Should we even be doing this? Isn't it against regs?"  
"Just go with it, man." Clint breathed, moving down to kiss and nibble at Steve's neck. He could feel Steve's body responding through the thin fabric of the man's sweatpants; he himself was already rock hard. Experimentally, he rocked forward and pushed his hips to Steve's. Steve groaned and bucked against him.  
"Yes" Clint breathed. He pulled Steve's shirt off, then whipped off his own. They pressed their bodies together, kissing and caressing. Clint dared to reach down, grabbing Steve's length through his pants. Steve responded by biting Clint gently on the neck.  
"I'm going to take that as a yes?" Clint said with a grin.  
Steve confirmed his willingness by reaching down and cupping Clint's balls through his pants.  
"Game on" Clint murmured with a laugh. He pulled Steve's pants off carefully, drawing them down his legs and removing them, trying not to jar Steve's injury. Steve hastily unzipped Clint's cargoes, pushing them down to grip Clint's bare ass. Clint shoved the pants down and kicked them off, then resumed his position straddling the Captain.  
Skin to skin they explored each other, gasping with pleasure and pent-up lust. Steve felt impossibly huge and hard in his hand, and Clint's mouth practically watered with anticipation.  
He kissed and licked a trail down Steve's body. Steve pushed himself up onto his elbows again to watch.  
"Lie back" Clint breathed. He took Steve's length into his mouth.  
Steve fell back against the bed. "Oh, hell!" he moaned, hips bucking. He panted and squirmed under Clint's skillful mouth, raking his fingers through the other man's hair. Clint broke off and looked speculatively at the other man. "You wanna be inside me?" he asked.  
Steve was slack-jawed with lust, but he managed a nod. Clint nibbled his way back up.  
"Can you weight-bear on your leg?"  
"Probably not" Steve said apologetically.  
"That's okay, just means I get to be on top, which I kinda' like" Clint said with a grin. He climbed astride Steve, who looked up at him almost worshipfully. Clint slowly inched himself into position over the other man. Steve's entire body was tight with anticipation.  
"Oh, please?" Steve asked. He rubbed his cock against Clint's ass.  
"Wait, stop!" Clint panted. He pointed to Steve's bedside drawer "Please tell me you've got lube in there?"  
Steve leaned over awkwardly and opened the drawer, withdrawing a small tin, which he handed to Clint with a smile. Clint looked at it.  
"Vaseline?"  
"What?" Steve said defensively.  
"You use Vaseline to _polish your rifle_?"  
Steve shrugged. "I guess I'm old-fashioned. And it's good lube."  
"_Old-fashioned _is right" Clint grumbled. He dipped his fingers in and grabbed up a glob, which he applied swiftly to Steve's length. "I guess this'll do" he murmured. He moved back over Steve, positioning himself carefully, and slowly, inch by inch, took the other man inside his body. Steve's cock was slick with the lube, but Clint still hissed and gritted his teeth. Steve kept himself perfectly still, allowing the other man to be in control.  
"Oh damn... damn that feels good." Steve sighed.  
Clint let out a breath of relief when he'd adjusted to having Steve deep inside him. He leaned forward, bracing his upper body over Steve's, and leaned in to kiss him as he moved slowly and steadily over him. Every muscle in Steve's body was taut from holding back as he let Clint set the pace and rhythm. Clint gritted his teeth again, relishing the sensation of Steve's head pressing against his prostate on every long thrust. His cock was trapped between their hips, which was incredibly stimulating and maddeningly frustrating at the same time. He wanted more direct stimulation. He sat back slightly, rubbing his cock along Steve's belly as he moved over him. "C'mon Capt,' he breathed.  
Steve looked up at Clint. "You could take care of that yourself... I wouldn't mind watching- it would be a pretty good view from here..."  
Clint feigned indignation "You dirty old man!"  
Steve smiled sheepishly and shrugged, but took the hint and reached down, taking Clint in hand. With his free hand, he reached over and took the Vaseline tin off the table and thumbed it open. He swiped out a glob with his fingers, rubbing into his palm. He slid his hand down Clint's length. Clint gasped and bucked against the other man's hand. "Ah, that feels good."  
Steve smirked up at him. "_Old fashioned_ okay for you now?"  
"Shut up" Clint gasped, smiling.  
They moved against each other, matching each other's rhythm stroke-for-stroke. Clint stroked his hands up and down Steve's chest, thumbing his nipples from time to time to send tiny shivers of delight through the man's shoulders. Clint rocked faster and faster over Steve, stimulated completely inside and out. He reached up and dragged his thumb across Steve's top lip, and Steve caught the digit gently between his teeth, and then sucked it into his mouth. Clint gave a lustful chuckle. Steve's eyes were half closed in bliss. He rocked beneath the other man, the building pleasure far outweighing the throbbing pain from his injured leg.  
"Clint... " Steve whispered. He caught his lip in between his lips as his lust-addled brain tried to formulate a sentence. "I think... I'm gonna come..."  
Clint rolled his head back, eyes closed, immersed in pleasure, as Steve's gentle pounding and stroking pushed him closer to his fall. "Mm, me too" he sighed. He rolled forward, bracing himself on the other man's shoulders, and let his head drop forward. He doubled his intensity, pounding himself hard against Steve's hips.  
Steve swore, and rose to meet the challenge, hips bucking tight and hard, his hand working Clint's cock double-time.  
Clint panted, his gasps coming out unsteady. Steve moaned and squirmed beneath him. Clint leaned forward until their foreheads were touching, his hips curving to allow Steve room to work him. He could feel the tightness in Steve's abdomen beneath him.  
"Come for me." he whispered. "C'mon, Capt. You know you need it."  
With his free hand, Steve gripped Clint's hips. He followed his orders like a good soldier, and with a shuddering cry, came hard, deep inside Clint. The sensation and stimulation was too much for Clint, and seconds later he tipped over the edge. He gasped and moaned as he spent himself over Steve's belly. Steve eased back with his hand, and slowed his hips, gently teasing out the pleasure. Clint rocked his hips gently, and slowed to a stop. He buried his face against Steve's neck as they continued to breathe hard against each other. Steve gave a low hum of pleasure, and teased his fingers up Clint's back. Clint sat back slowly, looking down at his seed. "Hm. Sorry about that" he said.  
"You really are determined to make a mess of me today, aren't you?" Steve complained.  
Clint grinned. "I'd like to think this more than makes up for shooting you in the leg."  
"What, letting me _shoot _you in the ass."  
"Something like that. Hey, it's better than when you got shot in the ass."  
"I'll say" Steve agreed. "But let's not make a habit of it, okay?"  
"Which part; where I accidentally injure you, or where I kiss it and make it better?"  
Steve grinned.

…

_Author's note: These characters belong to someone else- I make nothing from writing or posting this, so feedback is appreciated. Also, yeah I know Clint has mad skillz and would probably never miss… but just go with it, k? Thanks for reading!_


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